Drive It Up
by Draco-Hermy
Summary: A lost moment from Reunion It Up. Cece and Rocky are waxing Gary's car and walking his dog. But when Cece said she wondered what it was like to drive, she didn't really think Rocky would agree... NO FEMMESLASH!


**A/N I hope you guys like it! First Shake-It-Up fic.**

**Disclaimer: The show doesn't belong to me, and it never, ever, will!**

Rocky and I really want that Generation Dance. So we (and by that, I mean "I") told Gary we would wax and wash his car. Rocky, for some reason, told him that we would walk his dog, too. So on the bright side, we had a dance, a car, and a dog!

I've always wondered what driving was like…

So the next day, we went to Gary's house. The man himself was out exercising (the gym was only a five minute walk away), and his wife was taking a week for herself in her cherry-red Mercedes convertible.

In short, we were alone.

I had an idea. Rocky agreed after I persuaded her that no one would have to know. She helped me tie the dog's leash to the left rearview mirror. We climbed into the car, me in the driver's seat and Rocky in shotgun.

I jingled the car keys. We _would_ wash the car… after we got back. I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbled.

"Cece, we can only go around the block," said Rocky nervously.

"You worry too much," I told her. She gave me a pointed look. "Fine, just around the block."

Another glare. "Pinky swear!" I said. Another look. "Slap swear?" She nodded. "Rocky!" I whined.

"I don't want to die, Cece. Or get kicked off the show," Rocky said. I rolled my eyes.

"We're not going to get caught," I told her. She looked uneasy, but agreed. Then she smiled.

"You're right. I mean, it's not like Gary really _excersizes_, he just hangs out at the café at the gym!" exclaimed Rocky happily.

I nodded. "Yeah! So we have nothing to worry about, Rocky. Just let me drive for a little bit, and then I promise: you can walk the dog, and I'll wax Gary's Porsche!"

"We're _in_ his Porsche, Cece. And we're walking the dog by taking him with us," Rocky reminded me.

"Exactly! I'll wax it! All you have to do is clean up extra dog poop lying on the road!" I told her.

"Yeah, and cleaning up flying dog poop is on the top of my List of Favorite things," Rocky said. I rolled my eyes again.

"Oh, Rocky, Rocky, Rocky. You're the one who offered to walk Buddy, remember that!" I reminded her. "And it _did_ get us the Generation Dance."

"But what if Ronnie and Angie don't make up with each other? What if we _don't_ get to do the Generation Dance?" Rocky worried.

I waved it off. "We'll figure something out. Now, can we get going or what?"

"Fine." And so began the best time of my life.

I stepped on the gas, and the car jerked forward. We were _moving!_ I whooped, and Rocky stuck her hand out of the top (we had opened the roof).

I couldn't believe how good this felt. My hair was blowing back behind me, the wind whipping around my face. It was amazing. I looked at the speed-monitor (I think that's what it's called), and realized I was going fifty miles an hour. I slowed down to twenty-five, but it still felt wonderful.

I can't _wait_ until I'm sixteen.

Around and around the block we went, until the dog started barking. I stopped the car, and Buddy went off to do his business.

"Alright, Cece. Move over," said Rocky.

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"It's my turn! You didn't think I would let _you_ have all the fun, did you?" I shrugged and switched seats with my best friend.

She went much faster than I did. Rocky was almost at seventy miles an hour when I told her to slow down.

She was laughing hysterically. "This is _awesome,_ Cece! Oh, this is the _best!_" I think she was going insane. But did I care?

Nope!

Things went kind of wrong after that. We came around a corner too fast, and we had to skid to a halt. But not after scraping a car on the way.

"Oh, no! What did I _do?_ Gary's going to be _so_ mad at us! Why didn't you tell me to stop, Cece?" wailed Rocky.

"Calm down. Let's just get this car back to Gary's house, and we'll deal with it from there. And why don't you let _me_ drive, Rocky?" I took the wheel from her, and we got back to Gary's house.

His Porsche was yellow. There was a scrape that ran along the outside right edge of the car. While Rocky went to go pick up the bits of dog waste, I scavenged the garage for anything useful.

Finally, Rocky got back, and I found it. A jar of canary yellow paint. It matched the convertible's color exactly.

I smiled evilly at Rocky. "Oh no, Cece, we can't!" she told me.

"Why not?"

"Because… he'll just know!" Rocky said. I raised an eyebrow at her, and her shoulders slumped.

"Oh, fine. But your plans never work."

We got some paintbrushes, and dragged the jar of paint out onto the driveway where the car was. I painted a thick coat of yellow paint on the car. It dried in about twenty minutes.

Rocky immediately put another, even thicker coat on top of mine, and we waited until it dried. I put my hands on my hips in satisfaction.

"It looks great, Rocky. I think we worked really hard," I told her.

She groaned. "Cece, I think I can see a difference in the color! He's going to find out."

"No, he isn't. You're just seeing that because you know what happened, and you _want_ to think we'll get caught!" I responded.

"Well… alright…"

"Look, my mom's here!" And so she was. Mom was still in her police car, but we didn't mind. We pretended we were known fugitives every time we got in there.

The next day was the show. Rocky and I showed up, and everyone congratulated us. The next time would be the Generation Dance, and we were all excited for that.

Just before the show started, Gary came over to us. "You girls did a great job with my car. It's just… did the right side seem a little off-color to you?"

We looked at each other. "Uh, no, Gary!" I said, and grabbed Rocky's arm.

"We have to go get ready," said Rocky, and we darted away.

He never found out.


End file.
